


Tales of the White Dragon Part I: Ashen Wings

by AgentMangosteen



Category: Cookie Run (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, more characters and tags will be added on as the story continues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22370251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentMangosteen/pseuds/AgentMangosteen
Summary: The Cookie Kingdom has been founded on a history of legends and myths; most importantly, the tale of the Strawberry Jam Sword's forging.  The blade was thought to be a myth, however, the royal family knows the truth.  The sword is a wellspring of power... and destruction.With the sword, came the prophecy of the White Dragon."When avarice becomes ash, shall the White Dragon rise from the black."
Kudos: 16





	Tales of the White Dragon Part I: Ashen Wings

The forest seemed to beckon with a mystical light as Dark Choco dismounted, a quiet breeze blowing through. Something urged him to turn back, but his goal was in sight. A step past the gates of the shrine, and an unsettling chill ran through him. It’s a little too quiet for him, but then again, he was alone in this uncharted territory. The autumn hues of the leaves were his only guide now.

With his boots crunching the fallen leaves below him, he tied up his hair and put on the hood of the cloak he wore. Wind chimes decorated atop the leaves of the trees twinkled. As he walked down the path, slips of paper that bared symbols of warning grew more common.

Dark Choco took a deep breath, feeling his pulse begin to rise.  _ Turn back,  _ the slips had read.  _ Do not release the Ashen Menace,  _ another read. For a moment, he paused. Hesitated. But then continued on. The end of the path was near, and the fertile autumn soon began growing into black masses of the leftover trunks. Behind him, Dark Choco felt another presence. Reaching for the sword at his hip, he turned, glaring at whoever was behind him.

“Are you sure you want to attack me?” The woman asked. “I am but a humble priestess. A guide to the shrine you seek.”

“How do you know I am here for the shrine?” the black haired man would ask. “I could simply be enjoying a stroll for the woods.”

“Yet those who are not as foolish as you would turn back at the markers to the path,” the woman would speak. “Pardon me, though. I’m getting ahead of myself. I am Pomegranate Cookie, the keeper of this shrine.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Dark Choco would respond as he loosened his grip on his sword, turning to face the red-haired priestess. “If you are the keeper of the Shrine, then lead me to it.”

“Gladly, but there is one thing that I must ask you,” Pomegranate said with an eerie glint to her eyes. “What do you seek from the shrine?”

“Power,” Dark Choco responded. “Power to save an entire kingdom.”

“You are honest. I think we’ll be good friends,” Pomegranate commented with a light, eerily gleeful smile. “Are you sure you seek the power hidden within this place, though?”

“I am sure,” Dark Choco responded.

“Truly? What will be done can never be undone,” the woman would say, and when Dark Choco nodded, her smile grew wider. “You are decisive. A brave one as well… Though you may be foolish in a moment.”

Her words chilled him to the bone, but he took a deep breath. As Pomegranate began to lead him, he could feel a surge of dark magic awaken. The forest grew less and less diverse, and when they exited, his eyes were met with a barren wasteland inhabited only by a single, gleaming statue of a bird with a sword. “This is it,” Pomegranate spoke soon after, stepping down into the destroyed beauty. “Welcome to the Shrine of Ashen Dreams.”

Instead of a snappy comment, Dark Choco quietly walked along the path to the shrine, the scent of ash and soot lingering in the air, only growing thicker as he continued further. Dead trees, burned by a source unknown, gleamed with a scarlet light. He could hear Pomegranate disappear behind him with a  _ whoosh _ . As he drew closer, that same surge of dark magic coursed through his body like an adrenaline rush during a battle.

Taking a deep breath, Dark Choco slowly ascended the altar, watching as clouds of black swirled around it. A new scent joined the thick volcanic ash; the scent of warm, comforting sweets.  _ “Come, relieve a childhood of grandeur,”  _ said a voice in his head.  _ “I can bring you the memories you seek, young one. All you have to do is grasp me.” _

He felt his body grow limp, his senses all but leaving him.  _ “Come to me,”  _ the voice spoke again, the ringing in his head becoming louder and louder the closer he got to the statue.  _ “Let your will become mine, young one.”  _ The deep voice spoke again. Sapphire-colored eyes gazed upon the statue, a faint sheen of ruby beginning to decorate them.  _ “Yes, that’s it. Speak your wish, young one. I shall grant it.” _

“I wish for power,” Dark Choco spoke, though his voice had become slowed, almost as if he had a strong juice. “I wish for power, so that I may triumph over adversity.”

_ “Your wish has been heard, young one. I can grant you power,”  _ the voice said, and the monument’s eyes gleamed scarlet, some kind of liquid pouring into its wings.  _ “Power to save a kingdom and so much more. That is what you wish, is it not?” _

“Yes!” Dark Choco answered almost immediately. “Yes! Please, what do I need to do to gain the strength I need to save the Kingdom?”

_ “All you must do is draw the blade in front of you, young one.”  _ The liquid began to surround the sword in question, and a cloud of ash began to swirl around the statue’s head.  _ “Raise it to the sky. And your wish shall be granted.” _

Dark Choco took a deep breath as he watched the cloud becoming thicker, blocking all view of the outside world. The sword in front of him glowed with an inviting light, and instead of a scent of ash like before, he breathed in the scent of his favorite mince pies and of a fresh coat of leather on a saddle. “Yes… Please, grant my wish…” He quietly spoke. If one would look closely, they’d see that his eyes had become an almost entrancing red hue as he walked closer to the sword. The slow, eerie way the clouds swirled made him feel… safe. Like he was meant to be here.

His steps became more slowed. As he took hold of the sword in front of him, he could feel warmth spread throughout his body. “Home…” He quietly muttered as he tugged at the sword, the scarlet liquid beginning to flood into its blade. And when Dark Choco raised it to the sky, flashes of deep crimson lightning began to paint the black landscape.

The statue flared to life, and with a mighty screech, it soared on cracking wings up into the sky. The cloud of ash began to disperse, and the ground began to shake, knocking Dark Choco onto his behind. The sound of thunder rang in his ears as he shielded his eyes from the blinding red light. In the statue’s place was now a mess of rubble, and when he raised his head, he could see a large black shadow rushing towards him from above.

And then all went black. Only one phrase called out to him in his head.

  
_ “The ashen wings have spread.” _


End file.
